


The Garden

by Magical_Devil_Alex



Series: Ego Shanagins [2]
Category: Markiplier Egos, YouTube Markiplier, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Bim loves his plants, Gen, I really need to have nice ideas, Lots of it, M/M, On Sided Love, Temporary Character Death, The Egos are kind of jerks, Unrequired Love, but all I have is angst, poor Bim, self doubt, still don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-03-06 12:45:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13411545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Devil_Alex/pseuds/Magical_Devil_Alex
Summary: No matter how hard Bim tried, he never seemed to be able to gain the other Egos respect. It didn't matter that he practically came back from the dead, didn't matter what the community thought of him.He was weak.Useless.Nothing more than another problem to deal with.At least he still has his garden.





	1. The Garden

Bim's clearest memory was his death. 

I know, pretty brutal, but could you really blame him? He was barely alive for a month before he started to flicker out; before everyone including his creator forgot he existed. The community hadn't even started making theories or fanart about him. He never changed, never evolved like the other Egos because no one bothered to take the time to help him. 

They let him die. None of the others even seemed to care.

The face of Dr. Iplier was neutral when he told Bim the news. "I'm sorry, you're dying."

All Bim could do was cough and grab ahold of the Doctors coat losely. "Wait," he choked out desperately. "I can't die, I can't, not already, I'm Bim Trimmer!" 

Dr. Iplier looked at him with what seemed to be pity. "I'm sorry," he said again. "You're dying."

Bim cried out in frustration. Why couldn't the damned doctor save him? Why could he only say that blasted line? Why didn't anyone, not Mark, the fans, the other Egos, care what happened to him?  _Why?_

Bim felt tears running down his face. Why could he only say those stupid, egotistical lines? Why couldn't he say anything nice to anyone? He wanted to say something desperately, but all that came out were self promoting comments that usually ended with, "I'm Bim Trimmer!" 

More pain flooded his being. "Please," he whispered to the doctor again. Bim fell to his knees, too weak to hold himself up anymore. In the corner of his eyes, he could see the doctor walking away. "Please... help.." 

Then everything went a horrible, empty and black. 

Bim's second clearest memory was his rebirth.

Out of nowhere, Bim was shot into the light and in some sort of room, filled with others that looked like him. One had bandages wrapped around his face, bloody and wearing a trenchcoat. Another with a cowboy hat, a ridiculous looking silver and black costume, some dude wearing a blue shirt with a giant G on it, what looked like a teenager with a skirt and katana, a man with peanut all over his face, and-

"Doctor?" Bim's voice was hoarse after all that time not being able to use it, but it still managed to reach said persons ears. Dr. Iplier looked up at him, confused. "Bim?" he asked. Looking around the doctor called out more of the peoples names. "Yandere, Author? Google, Shephard? What... I thought you all..." he trailed off, but Bim was just staring in shock. 

Since when could he say anything other that I'm sorry, you're dying?

"Doctor, you can speak!" Bim was suddenly excited, running over and hugging the man. Laughs erupted from his throat, pure glee escaping him. "I'm alive! I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive!"

Dr. Iplier startled, an awkward chuckle leaving him as he patted Bim's back. "Yes, I guess I can. I you're all alive."

"The Host would like to say hello to everyone and congratulate their return," said the man with the bandages. Bim turned to look at him, suddenly uncomfortable to be under his non existent gaze. He felt like this man, The Host he called himself, knew everything about him without saying a single thing. 

"Y-yeah," Bim stuttered, the happiness still there despite his nervousness. He gave his showman smile. "It feels good to be back."

 

Later, they all met up with Wilford and Darkiplier, who explained why so many of them were suddenly reborn. Apparently Mark had made a video with all of the Egos, effectively bringing them all back to life. Bim couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude. Mark remembered about him, the fans knew who he was again!

Wilford looked almost exactly the same as he did all that time ago when Bim first saw him, except his clothing style was slightly different, and Bim sweared he was taller than last time they met. If the man was terrifying then, he was now.

Dark on the other hand, had gotten a complete makeover. 

When Bim first saw the dark Ego, he almost looked like a joke. Hair straight out of the 90's, fingernails painted black, and shark teeth. While he was easily the most powerful at the time, hardly anyone took him seriously, including Mark, who never even meant to create him in the first place. Now the Ego wore a formal suit, skin grey and an aura that constantly ringed with every movement he made. Voice smooth and layered, posture perfect and eyes a beautiful black that was deep as the void Bim was trapped in for so long.

Bim wasn't sure when he fell, but he fell  _hard._ The second he laid eyes on the dark ego he felt the strong urge to do anything for him, anything to please this being.

So all and all, Bim was happy. He was remembered again, and this time he didn't go out. With each day he became stronger and stronger, more diverse than he had ever been. He found a passion for plants, finding their company comforting. He was finally able to express himself in ways he never could, smiling and eager to help all. He got to work with Wilford on his show, and he fell in love.

It was all he could have asked for.

 

"TRIMMER!" 

Bim squeaked, dropping the papers he was holding. Wilford appeared in front of him with a puff of pink smoke, glaring at him. "Where have you been? The show starts in 10 minutes!"

Bim rushed to pick up the papers, avoiding eye contact with the pink maniac. "I-I'm s-sorry," he stuttered. "I was h-helping o-out Bing with-"

"I don't care about Bing! Now come on!" Wilford interrupted, teleporting away. Bim let out a sigh of relief. At least he didn't threaten to tickle him with a knife again. Bim quickly made his way to his spot, saying a quick hello to those around him, most which didn't even spare him a glance. Bim felt his enthusiasm drop with each person who ignored him, until he didn't bother to say anything. Dropping into his chair, Bim messaged the bridge of his nose and let out a small yawn. He had gotten next to no sleep last night, mostly due to Bing. The android insisted he help him out with a prank that he planned to pull on the Googles, and Bim couldn't find it within himself to refuse. Most of the knight consisted of him testing out various contraptions that Bing had made, including a slingshot that launched bees (don't ask) and a drink that made one drunk with a single sip (thankfully not actual alcohol, given the fact that none of the Egos could drink without potentially dying). It was rough. Bim was still trying to burn out that drunk feeling, worried that he would pass out at a moments notice.

 _Would anyone even notice?_ he wondered quietly to himself. It wasn't like he would be going on camera any time soon. Wilford made sure of that.

Bim glanced at the pile of paperwork on his desk, a small groan making its way out of his throat. It looked to be a mile high, and Bim knew it would take him almost all day to do. As he thought that, the managers assistant, Clare, walked by. Without even acknowledging him, Clare dumped another pile of paper on his desk. 

Forget most of the day. This would take him  _days._ Bim let out another groan, looking longingly at the stage where Wilford was setting up. Why couldn't he be doing that? Bim was a show host for crying out loud! He should be the one on the camera, not doing all the nasty work no one wanted to do. 

Looking away from the stage, Bim picked up a pencil and the first piece of paper on the stack, a sour taste in his mouth.

 

"Mr. Trimmer? Hello? You've gotta wake up," said a voice. It sounded really far away a murky, like someone was talking through water. Bim sleepily opened his eyes, yawning. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was-

"You can go now, Mr. Trimmer. Everyone else left already." Bim looked up at the voice, seeing Clare. Upon further inspection, Bim found the rest of studio was empty, the only light on was at his desk.

Bim pushed his glasses up on his nose, which were starting to fall off. "Thank you Clare," he said while trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. Clare just nodded, grabbing a brown purse that was on the ground next to his desk and making her way out of the studio. Bim sighed as he watched her go, standing up and hearing his joints pop. How long did he sleep for? The Ego didn't even recall falling asleep in the first place. 

Limbs still heavy from sleep, Bim gradually gathered everything he needed off his desk, which wasn't much considering that his home was only one door away from the studio. 

Bim let out another yawn as he walked towards said door, harsh light pouring through as he opened it. Bim covered his eyes, hissing at the sudden light compared to the dark studio. 

Once Bim's eyes adjusted, the Ego made his way to the kitchen, where he knew everyone would be heading for dinner. However, as he entered the kitchen, he was met with silence. Confused, Bim walked further in, the smell of spaghetti and meatballs reaching his nostrils, meaning Dr. Iplier had cooked dinner. Yet, there was nothing. All the plates were perfectly stacked in their respective places, and not a speck of mess anywhere to be found. 

Bim looked around more, until his eyes landed on the clock above the oven.

A clock that read  _10:14._

_10:14_

No wonder no one was in the kitchen. Dinner had been _hours_ ago.

Bim started to feel tightness in his chest. Why had no one asked where he was and try to find him? Did Wilford not realize he had fallen asleep at his desk, did he not remember he was there? Even if they realized he wasn't there, did it not cross any of their minds to at least leave him some food? 

With all these thoughts running through his head, Bim slowly came to the conclusion that no; they didn't remember, no they didn't seem to care if he was there or not. And why should they? Bim was useless compared to them.

He was weak. 

Pathetic.

Bim was sure the only reason he hadn't been killed off at this point was that, well, they  _couldn't._ Bim's impression on the community was so strong that it would be almost impossible to kill him, but that didn't mean the other Egos liked to deal with him.

He was just another problem to be taken cared of in the end. He couldn't manipulate reality like Wilford and Yandere could, couldn't heal people like Dr. Iplier, narrate and tell the future like The Host, wasn't an android like the Googles and Bing, didn't have the affection of everyone like the Jim's seem to have, wasn't a literal king like King was, and of course... he could never be as perfect as Dark. He could never be as beautiful, as flawless as intelligent as the darker Ego was. Bim was only a stupid show host, and the only thing that made him special was that he had Mark's face, and even then all the other Egos already had that.

And it wasn't just speculation that he other Egos hated him. Wilford constantly gave Bim the dirty work he didn't want to do, the Googles never seemed to stop glaring at him, Bing only talked to him if he wanted something from him, Yandere always started twitching for his katana whenever Bim was around, the Jim's did nothing but prank him, the doctor and The Host avoided him at all times, and Dark was always prepared to shot him down. It didn't matter if Bim had been working on the ins and outs of an idea for weeks, whenever he presented it to Dark, the darker Ego never let him finish his sentence before he moved on, the rest quickly following suit. 

Tears started burning behind Bim's eyes. He did his best to try and stay positive about things like this, but it was becoming harder and harder. Why was it so damn  _hard?_ All he wanted was to become apart of the family the other Egos seem to find themselves in. It didn't matter how friendly he was, how much he tried to please everyone. They just spit in his face and moved on, like he was a piece of gum on the bottom of their shoes.

He couldn't even please the one he fell in love with. 

Tears were falling down Bim's cheeks now. He tried to wipe them away, tried to pull himself together like he always does. But he couldn't. 

It was hard to pull yourself together when the very people you cared for didn't care if you faded into nothing, faded back into the darkness you got pulled out of. 

Bim let out a shaking breath, trying to calm his heart. This shouldn't hurt so much, he thought. After all this time, it shouldn't hurt this much. 

Gripping the counter next to him, Bim took deep breaths to try and calm himself down, wiping at the new tears that had formed. As his heart slowed and tears came to a stop, Bim could faintly hear ringing. turning his head towards the entrance of the kitchen, the Ego felt frozen as he watch none other than Dark enter. He was still in his suit (when did Bim ever see him out of it?) hands clasped behind his back and aura bending almost sluggishly, like it was tired.

"Trimmer?" the Ego asked, deep voice ringing throughout the room. "What are you doing here at this ungodly hour?"

Bim opened and closed his mouth like a fish, suddenly unable to make a sound. He could feel his face burn under the darker Egos gaze, which was intensely fix on him. He couldn't look away, staring into those void like eyes.

Dark raised a perfect eyebrow. "Are you alright? You didn't make it to dinner as well, I noticed."

It was such a simple question and statement, yet Bim's heart gave one giant  _skip._ His stomach lifted and tingled, blush on his face becoming more pronounced. 

_He noticed._

Bim hastily stepped away from the counter he was still leaning on, findling with the cuffs of his own suit. He hoped to whatever god was above that he didn't look like he was just crying. Were his eyes red? Bim couldn't tell, but he knew the other Ego was sure to notice if they were. Realizing that, Bim ripped his gaze away from Dark, instead deciding that his shoes were very interesting at the moment. He still couldn't force himself to make a sound, afraid of what he would say. 

_Thank you for realizing I wasn't there._

_But I thought you didn't care if I was here or not._

_Why are you so perfect?_

As Bim continued to stare at his shoes, he could hear the sound of clicking shoes, the ringing growing louder. He dared not to move as he saw Dark approach him from the top of his vision, breath suddenly gone. A single hand laid on his shoulder.

"Bim?" came Dark's voice again. "Are you all right?"

Bim made himself look up, no matter how much he wanted to run and hide and curl up into the smallest ball he could manage. He wasn't sure if he could handle the embarrassment.   

He shy made eye contact with the other Ego, doing his best to hold the gaze. It was hard, Bim finding himself trying to look anywhere else. Dark waited patiently, a neutral look on his face. 

"I-I.... I'm p-perfectly fin-ne D-D-Dark," he managed to stutter out. "J-just a-a late n-night at the st-studio. H-had to uh... f-finish up with s-something." Bim inwardly scolded himself. There was no way the other would believe him, even if he didn't have that ridiculous stutter. Bim hated that stupid stutter especially since it only came up when he was nervous or lying... both which we was doing right now.

The former show host broke the eye contact, the effort to much to bear. Dark immediately took the hand that was on his shoulder off and firmly grasped his chin, tilting it up. Bim nearly gasped at the feeling of Dark's cool skin on his own. Air left his lungs again as Dark stared at his for a long moment, looking to be contemplating something. 

 _If this was a romance novel,_ Bim thought the longer Dark stared at him.  _Than this would be the part where we kiss._

"Bim..." Dark said gently. "Have you been crying?"

The question took Bim off guard, causing him to step back away from Dark's hand. The other Ego dropped it, still staring at him with the intensity of a thousand suns. The sincerity and genuine concern in the darker Egos eyes surprised him, considering Dark was known for his manipulation and cruel nature. 

Before Bim could find it within himself to reply, a  _crack!_ and puff of pink smoke appeared next to Dark, making them both flinch. In the place of the smoke stood Wilford and all of his crazy glory. 

"Well there you are, mister!" Wilford exclaimed, wrapping one of his arms around Dark's shoulders. "I've been looking for you!"

Dark gave a little sigh. "Wilford, I've been gone for 5 minutes. I told you I was going to walk around a little bit," he said, and Bim could hear the small smile in his voice. 

A confused look briefly crossed over Wilford's features before he broke into a grin again. "Of course! I must've forgot!" he giggled, his eyes shifting over to Bim. "Bim? What are you doing here?"

Dark jumped in before Bim could say anything. "He was finishing up some work at the studio. I found him here a few minutes ago."

Another odd look came to Wilford's face. "You were? Oh well, have a nice night!" Wilford cheered, walking away with Dark practically dragged behind him. 

"Wilford!" quietly yelled Dark, trying to push away from the candy crazed maniac.

"Common Darky, you've gotta loosen up a bit!" laughed Wilford, grip tightening on the other Ego. Even from here Bim could hear and see the affection for each other rolling off them in waves. With each step the duo took, Bim's heart squeezed and hurt more and more. Bim wasn't delusional, he realized his chances with Dark were slim, but to see him like that with someone else... it just hurt. 

_Every damn thing hurt._

But of everything, the being ignored, the cruelty, everything, Bim found that his heart shattering hurt the most. 

Before he could think of anything else, Bim felt his feet take off in the opposite direction to the two, suddenly running as fast as he could. He needed to get away, he realized. He needed to go somewhere where he felt safe, where he knew that no one could hurt or reject him.

Bim's feet made up their mind before his brain could. 

Soon, Bim found himself panting in front of the greenhouse where he kept all of his beloved plants. 

They couldn't leave him, Bim thought, opening the door and releasing the sweet smells and warm air trapped inside. The show host instantly relaxed, loving the familiar feeling of everything around him, loving how some of the plants glowed softly glowed in the darkness, loving how they smelled. 

Mindlessly, Bim picked up a pale of water and started going around to each plant, watering them. He sang a soft tune as he worked, remembering that he heard it sometime, but wasn't entirely sure where.

_"In this one of many possible words, all for the best, or some bizarre test?_

_It is what it is, and whatever_

_Time is still the infinite Jest,_

_The arrow flies when you dream_

_the hours tick away, the cells tick away_

_The Watchmaker keeps to his schemes_

_The hours tick away, they tick away."_

Bim started to feel tears running down his face again, but this time, he wasn't sure why they were there. The realization that no one would love him? The realization that  _Dark_ would never love him back? The realization that he would never find his place among the Egos?

Whatever it was, Bim didn't pause in his singing to think about.

_"The measure of a life, is a measure of love and respect_

_So hard to earn, so easily burn_

_In the fullness of Time_

_A Garden to nurture and protect..."_

Bim paused. Love and respect... the two things he never got.

At least he still had his garden.

_"In the rise and the set of the sun_

_'Til the stars go spinning, spinning 'round the night_

_It is what it is, and forever_

_Each moment a memory in flight_

_The arrow flies, when you breathe_

_the hours tick away, the cells tick away_

_The Watchmaker had Time up his sleeve_

_The hours tick away, they tick away."_

It became harder and harder for Bim to breath, more tears pouring down. He didn't care. He embraced the burning in his chest. 

_"The measure of a life, is a measure of love and respect_

_so hard to earn, so easily burn_

_In the fullness of Time_

_A Garden to nurture and protect_

_The treasure of a life, is a measure of love and respect_

_the way you live, the gifts that you give_

_In the fullness of Time_

_Is the only return that you expect..."_ Bim's voice broke on the last word, suddenly unable to say anything else, more and more tears kept coming up, and Bim found he couldn't stop. He sank to the ground, knees clutched to his chest, shaking with sobs. 

Time was a bitch.

In the mess, Bim made a promise to himself.

Even though he could never find love like he wanted, even though the world was unfair and lonely... he would take care of his little happiness right here.

Bim looked up at the beautiful plants around him.

He would care for this garden.

A small smile creeped to his face.

He would care for  _his_ garden. 

 

  


	2. The Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I know this fic is rather old, but I got inspiration for an idea centered around this that someone from the comments gave me (thank you, you know who you are). They wondered about an alternate ending to this story, and it very much interested me. So,I hope you enjoy!

Why?

That question has plagued Bim Trimmer for such a long time that it lost its meaning, its purpose in his life. Why did he care so much of what the other Egos thought? Why did they never give him any respect, any shred of dignity? Why did they seem to hate him so much? Why couldn't he find someone to love him? 

At all swirled through his head, the questions unable to stop coming to him, even as he watered his precious flowers and tended to his garden, the one he had promised to take care of. Why did he spend his time doing something as useless as this, caring for objects that would die without his help? They would all die in the end, no matter what he did. Their nice smells and bright appearances did nothing to help him in the long run, got him no close to the respect he so desired.

Giving up on Darkiplier didn't help in the slightest, either. He might have finally understood that the suited Ego would never love him or see him as for than a tool, but it still fucking  _hurt._ Everything  _still hurt._ Nothing about his life ever became better.

Wilford still treated him like shit. The other Egos still couldn't give a damn if he died right here right now and never came back. Taking care of some stupid garden wasn't helping.

As the months went on, the show host slowly became more and more bitter, snapping at people quicker, snarling insults under his breath, and intentionally killing one of his plants and watched as it pathetically died. Anger and hate boiling under his skin, no way to get out and showing no signs of stopping. 

He wanted revenge. He wanted to give everyone a piece of their own medicine and watch them burn. So that's exactly what he did, the want of being a 'nice guy' and staying passive disappearing from his mind. It was time he snapped, showing everyone how he really felt. He had nothing to lose.

It all started at the studio, watching Wilford as he conducted interviews and ran shows all and all the while Bim stayed at a desk and did nothing but paperwork. It was insulting really, the Ego's hand clenching into a fist as he thought about how it should be  _him_ who's up there, charming people and talking to everyone. It was what he was  _literally_ created to do, and this bitch thought he could take it all away?!

Just as he thought that, Clare, the managers assistant walked passed, dumping a large pile of paperwork on his desk. Only it didn't stay. It fell to the ground with a loud  _THUMP,_ causing anyone in the general vicinity to flinch in surprise and see what happened. Clare looked back, shrugged her shoulders, and turned back around to continue to where she was going. No one else did anything.

Anger exploded from Bim, his face turning bright red and teeth grinding together. How  _dare_ she treat him this way, like a piece of garbage that floated through the sea. How  _dare_ she humiliate him day after day, doing bullshit like this like it was nothing.

How  _dare you._

Bim jumped up from his desk, slamming the palms of his hands on the desk. Once again, everyone around him looked to see what the sound was, but the Ego barely noticed them. All he saw was Clare.

_"Get back here!"_

The entire backstage went silent, everyone trying to see where the yelling came from, including Clare, who stopped right in her place like the rest of them. She didn't know Bim was talking to her.

That would soon change.

_"Clare. The assistant manager. Get your ass back here and clean up this mess before I tear out your throat,"_ Bim snarled, emphasizing every word to make sure it ringed with authority and no room to negotiate, just like Dark would do. He's been on the other end of Dark's anger for long, and it was time he made someone the victim of  _his_ anger. 

Clare's eyes found him, confused and slightly scared. She walked over to his desk, rather slowly, heals clicking through the room. Everyone's eyes were on her and she knew it too. But she was moving too slow. It would take her forever to get here.

Another spike of anger went through Bim.  _"Get over here, NOW!"_

Clare's eyes widened, but she sped up, nearly running to the desk and hastily picking up the papers, face burning with embarrassment, a lovely red shade that Bim liked. It was the exact shade his would be whenever someone did this to him, that blood red that filled everywhere from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

Everyone watched in discomfort as Clare picked up the papers, no one sure what to do or say, not used to Bim acting out the way he did. Usually the Ego got the papers himself, never saying a word in protest, but now, it was different, and all the people in that studio knew it.

Bim watched as Clare picked up every paper on the floor quickly, placing them on his desk in a neat pile. Her hands were shaking he noticed, and he liked it. It was about time he put some respect into these pathetic humans. They didn't know anything about him, yet they acted like they did. They thought since Wilford was the craziest person they've ever met, and that nothing could surprise them anymore. Well guess what, humans? It was about time Bim slugged a good reality check straight at everyone;s faces.

Bim grabbed the collar of Clare's shirt, dragging her over the papers so that they were nearly nose to nose, making sure she saw the rage in his eyes. The fear that reflected back was delicious, and Ego ate it up. fueling him.

"Listen  _very_ closely," he whispered to her. "If you  _ever_ do anything as disrespectful and humiliating as you just did, I  _will_ make sure you're fired from your job, and then I'll make sure you can never get a job anywhere else again. And after that, once you're alone on the streets and selling your body for money, I'll find you, rip your heart out and eat it as you die on the pavement.  _Got it?"_

Clare nodded furiously, eyes shinning with surprised terror and glazed over shock, like she was in a dream she hadn't quite figured out yet. But she understood, and that was all that mattered. 

"Then get out of my sight."

The Ego shoved her back, letting her fall to the floor and looking up at the dozens of other faces watching the interaction. "What do you want?" Bim snapped. "Get back to work."

And with that, whatever spell had captured all of them vanished. They all began doing their jobs again, everyone ignoring Clare, not even looking in her direction. It gave Bim a sense of pride and accomplishment, knowing that now he had made his statement. He would not be controlled. He would not be tossed around like a rag doll meant for playing with. He sat down, a smirk taking over his face, looking at Clare from the edges of his vision. She slowly got up, rubbing her back, head downcast as she made her way through the crowd. She looked so meek, so unlike what she was like not 5 minutes ago.

It was beautiful.

Was this what Dark felt every day? If so, he wanted to feel this all the time.

Bim looked to the stage again, where Wilford Warfstache and his paradise was, a plan coming to mind.

He would shatter that paradise. 

 

 

Early the next morning, when no one was in the studio, Bim started with his plan. The studio was as dark as can be, but for the moment, he liked it that way. It was much easier to move under the over of shadow than he thought it would be, and it made him feel strangely powerful as well.

Bim started with the various ropes and cables that lowered and raised curtains, loosening them up, replacing some of the thicker ones with string like cords, and even taking a knife and cutting some of them. Next, he went over to the lights replacing light bulbs, smashing a few of the lights, and taking some out completely. He sprinkled some of the broken glass around the studio, making sure to be aware of it when he came back later that morning. After that was the cameras, corrupting film from yesterday, messing with many of the wires within the cameras with some pliers he got from Bing, and loosening the wheels holding them in their place. With some luck, one of the camera crew people will push one too hard and make it broken beyond repair. 

Just the thought of it made Bim grin evilly.

About half an hour later, when he had torn the curtains a bit, messed with the many props that Wilford used, and jacked up the sound system, his work was done. Everything was ruined. Everything amazing about this paradise Wilford had built up over the years would crumble around him.

Bim walked out of the studio and into Ego Inc, down the hall to where his room was. He couldn't help the giggles that poured from his throat, anxious to see all of his hard work do its job.

_Let's see how much you like your life now, Wilford Warfstache._

 

 

When Bim came into work a few hours later, it was chaos. Beautiful, amazing, crazy chaos. People running around in panic, all trying to do their job, only to find out that yet  _another_ piece of equipment was corrupt or unusable, adding to the mass panic everywhere.

The Ego wasn't panicked in the slightest. Without any fear, he sat down at his desk, and watched everything around him fall apart. 

Wilford was furious, that much was clear. With every new problem he was told about, the more his aura lashed out, nearly killing a few of his workers in the process. His entire form was simmering in rage, fists clenched tightly, eyes swirling pink with madness. It was  _delicious._  

20 minutes later, they had to call the show off. There was no way that they could possibly fix everything in the time that the show would start. Wilford, despite all of his anger, managed to keep his cool as he told everyone to go home for the day so that he could figure everything out. All of the workers filed out, most looking exhausted even so early in the day. Bim watched with a smile, that feeling of power growing in his chest.

He would bring then all to their knees.

 

 

Within a week, Bim had made nearly every Ego's life miserable. All of Dr. Iplier's medicines were out of order, along with most of his equipment being either destroyed or simply not there. There was complete panic in the hospital, struggling to find some sort of order as more and more patients came in, while at the same time dealing with the patients they already had.

The Google's were malfunctioning more and more due to Bim tampering with their charging stations and switching around all of their tools so that they could never properly fix themselves (most of the tools were in Bing's room, which they didn't know). Once they  _did_ realize that the tools were in Bing's room the entire time, they all became very angry at him, saying that he was a defect and every other insult they've used hundreds of times by now. Usually, Bim would feel some sort of sympathy with the other android, but there was nothing. He actually  _enjoyed_ watching them all suffer.

He purposely sabotaged Yandere's Senpai of the week, secretly telling the person about the crazy maniac and how he has a long history of killing those he doesn't like. They instantly stopped seeing the red head, avoiding him at all costs, and it was clear to anyone who saw Yandere that he was depressingly sad. But Bim knew no one would take it seriously, after all, Yan went through Senpai's like Wilford went through bullets. It wasn't much of a loss.

King, while a rather weird character, was still fun to mess with, Bim found. He placed squirrel killing poison in certain places around the outside, and before anyone knew it, nearly a quarter of the whole squirrel population was dead. King was devastated. Bim was ecstatic.

The Jim's pranks on him were over. Bim ruined their camera equipment and made sure that Camera Man Jim couldn't walk for a few months while he healed a broken leg. 

The Host was a hard one. The blind Ego could pretty much predict when anything was about to happen, if face, he was sure that he already knew about Bim's interference with everyone else. But he couldn't just  _leave_ the smug bastard where he stood, avoiding him while he made everyone else's life a pain. He had to do  _something._

The Ego sat in his room, planning and planning, searching for the perfect way to hurt The Host. He thought of everything from knocking him out and putting him into the wood to simply making everyday tasks a pain, but that left evidence. The Host would  _know_ who it was and efficiently knock him down. Unlike the others, he presented a challenge, and it was frustrating. 

The Ego growled in frustration, crumbling up yet another piece of paper that was on his desk. His latest idea, which involved messing with Dr. Iplier whenever he went to change the bandages on the blind Ego, was just more stupid and  _way_ harder than he realized it would be. He added it to the large pile next to him, one of dozens that he didn't know what to do with. It was like he should give up at this point. 

Just as he was about to grab another piece and start over, there was a knock on his door. Bim's head whipped to the sound, mind running at a million miles per hour as he ran through the possible people and scenarios that were behind that door. It was after 10 o'clock, so most people would be in bed or wandering around Ego Inc at this time. He rarely got visitors anyway, so who could it be, and what did they want?

"Yes?" Bim called out as he glanced at the papers on the floor. You couldn't see their contents, and he made sure to come up with code words that meant different things in case someone got a hold of them, but they still made him feel vulnerable and guilty. He shoved those feelings down as soon as they surfaced, knowing that's what he would think in the past. That part of him was gone now.

"It's Dark," came the smooth, layered voice that could only belong to Darkiplier. Everything inside Bim's body stopped functioning at that moment, a sharp tingling racing down his spine. Dark. In his room. One look around was enough to make Bim's mind go into overdrive, his bed was slightly messy a spare suit jacket was hanging on his closet handle, little things that he usually didn't pay attention to now stood out like neon in his face.

"Bim?" came the darker Ego's voice again, questioning this time. Bim shot up, stumbling over to the door as if there was a meat hook dragging him. His heart pounded as he opened his door, revealing the suited Ego and all of his perfection. Even this late at night he was still in his suit, hair combed naturally over one eye, posture straight and aura bending around him. Bim gulped, the old feeling's he had for the other coming back in full force.

No. He had to get over himself.

"Can I help you Dark?" the show host asked simply, surprising himself with how clear and easy his voice was. 

The darker Ego tilted his head, neck cracking slightly. But Bim didn't flinch like he normally would. 

"I was wondering if you were alright."

_I was wondering if you were alright._

Dark. Asking him how he was. Why on  _earth_ would he do that? A few hours ago, he was a nobody that didn't deserve five minutes to talk to Dark. And why  _now?_ Did he somehow know about the things Bim had been doing, and came to confront him about it? Or was it something else? He didn't let the question in his head reach his mouth, instead asking something else.

"And why would you wonder that?" Bim questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, for one, you're not a stuttering mess like you normally are when we talk, and other, Wilford has been saying you've been acting weirdly for a little while now. You don't usually stay in your room for such long periods of time, and now suddenly you do, nearly half of your plants are dead or dying, something you've  _never_ let happen, so forgive me if I think something is off. It was on my mind, so I came here to ask you myself," Dark informed. 

Bim was stunned, no thoughts coming to his head, everything blank. Dark  _noticed?_ Dark actually  _cared?_ That couldn't be, there must be something wrong here. The dark Ego didn't care about him, and he certainly wouldn't  _ask_ him about it simply out of good nature. He  _has_ to want something, right?

"And judging by that look on your face, I seemed to have hit the nail on the head," Dark smirked, causing Bim's bodily functions to go back into overdrive. His face flushed red, eyes dodging the dark Ego's, everything that he would always do whenever Dark addressed him directly. But he thought he was over the other Ego. He tried to get over him, at least. He accepted that Dark could never love him back, and that his heart already belonged to someone else.

The why couldn't he bring himself to hurt Dark like he hurt the others? Every time it crossed his mind he would shove it out of his head, never once touching it. He had no trouble working for hours to find a way to bring The Host down, but the second he thought about hurting Dark he caved, feeling that guilt coming back up to choke him.  _Why?_

"N-no need to worry about it. Just want to spend some time alone is all," Bim coughed into his hand, looking to the ground. Part of him desperately wanted to slam the door in the others face, leaving him there with no other explanation, but another part of him wanted to stay, talk to him. He so rarely ever does it, even in the meetings. 

Dark's stare burned into his skin, making Bim fidget uncomfortably as he looked back up at the other Ego. He gave Bim a long look, studying everything on his face. It made the show host go a shade darker, but he didn't look away this time.

"Alright," Dark said simply, stepping back from the doorway. "Have a nice night, Bim."

And then he was gone. No more Dark, nothing. The blush on Bim's face died faster than Wilford's gun could go off, all the guilt and timidness fading away. He shut the door, feeling as if he was in a trance, and sat on the edge of his bed, drilling a hole into the wall with his eyes as he thought about what just happened. How he still wasn't over Dark, and how for the life of him he still couldn't think about hurting him without feeling like he was being punched in the gut. Even with all the terrible thing's the dark Ego has said to him, he just couldn't. His heart still beat for the smooth, consuming voice that made his muscles weak, the beautiful face and humming aura. 

But he could never he his. Dark's heart still belonged to Wilford Warfstache.

But what if...

Bim blinked, another plan to ruin Warfstache coming to his mind. He bolted over to his desk, all ideas of hurting The Host flying from his mind. The blind bastard could wait. Right now he wanted to make Dark _his._

And the Ego worked long into the night, everything falling into place. He would steal Dark's heart, get rid all of the other Ego's, get his show back, and break Wilford's world into a million little pieces, laughing as he did so. He would make Wilford Warfstache pay.

They all would.

And the garden? Who cares about the damn thing. It could wither up and die for all he cared.                      

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment!
> 
> ~Magical_Devil_Alex


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